Songs of the Fallen
by LastSomethingThatMeantAnything
Summary: It's basically what I came up with when I realized I was tired of writing realistic things...so ta-da! Enjoy!
1. The Beginning

"Run, Lacey. Run, as fast as you can."

I stand there, frozen, unable to move. Every one of my limbs is numb, raw with pain, and limp with the prospect of movement.

"GO!" She screams, over the flames.

Those were mom's last words before the house caught fire, exploding, the sound popping in my ears.

When I don't move, she picks me up, kisses my forehead, and then promptly throws me out a window. I land on my stomach, my ribs screaming. I can hear my heart breaking, or maybe that's just the sound of the house collapsing on itself. I'm not sure anymore.

By now my mother is most likely burning alive, and there is no way for me to run into the house, without catching fire of course. The crackling echoes, mocking me. The flames lick the grass, edging towards me, and pulling back. I stare up through the window, but see nothing but bright embers, cracks in the glass, and soon the glass bursts. I shield my eyes, a shard of glass cuts my skin, one long cut, down my arm. The blood drips on my white night gown.

Suddenly next to the house a shadow appears, I stand, ready to run. The shadow stands still, apparently not noticing me. In the forest surrounding me, suddenly there is a flash of white, a quick blur. I run into the forest, as I turn, I see my mother's killer turn as well. He begins running, but I run faster, following the blur. As I get closer I realize the blur has dark, dark hair, black as the shadows and death looming over me. The blur is wearing white pajamas, too, and the person turns its head just enough so I can see it. The face nearly stops me in my tracks. It's my mother.

I keep running, following, when I catch her I'll ask her how she got out of the house alive. My lungs are bursting, my ribs screaming, begging for me to stop, and my legs have lost all feeling. I don't even know where I am anymore. Then as I begin to descend towards a river in front of me, I slip, rolling down the hill, into the water. I breathe hard, but then stop, as my mother's killers face is now looming over me.

He crouches. "Do you believe in God?"

I can't breathe, everything in me is numb. I want to scream, but if I do I'm afraid nothing will come out. This man's face is burnt slightly, his eyes darting, out of focus. He's clearly insane. His hands are blackened, and he breathes hard, like he has been unable to catch his breath for a while.

He cocks his head to the side, his eyes roaming over my face. "Do you believe in God?" He repeats. I cough, choking on my own breath. My lungs seem to swell, trying to grasp something to hold on to, but no air will seem to enter my body.

I inhale sharply, the sound making me feel sick. Then out of the corner of my eye, I see an explosion, wood flies, embers falling to the ground gracefully like snow. The murderer grabs hold of my clothing, its soaked through, loose against my skin. He pulls me out of the water, pushing down on my stomach until I spit out the water. I moan. I turn my head to face him, but he's just sitting there, with his knees pulled to his chest, admiring the full moon. I cough again, the sound making me want to throw up, but the killer doesn't even flinch. He just looks at me, pity in his eyes. He strokes his head, frowning.

"You need to answer the question." He states, a certain depth to his voice now.

Do I believe in God? As far as I know if there is a God, he obviously doesn't believe in me. In a course of maybe twenty minutes I've lost the only life I've ever known, watched the only home I've ever known explode, and now I sit here practically hearing the ticking of clocks. My life is going to end soon, I know it. Because here I am sitting next to the man who destroyed everything I knew in one flick of the hand it seems. And for what? I really don't know if I believe in God or not, but if He is real, He's not what I expected at all.

"I- I don't know what to believe." I stammer, in between coughs.

I seem to be choking on my own words now, and I fall back to the ground, the cold, wet ground, cushioning my fall. This man pulls me into his arms, stroking my face as- as if he cares.

"Your insane," I hiss, glaring up at him.

"If you're going to kill me just do it now. Kill me now!" I cry.

He tsk-tsks at me. "In time, my child, in time."

I narrow my eyes. "Kill me now; I have nothing to live for."

He seems shocked by that remark, like he doesn't know he just destroyed my house and killed my mother. "You will, your soul purpose will be of my own destruction, your broken lungs every breath will be of revenge, and your heart will beat only to live out the last moments of my final heart beats."

"You're insane." I repeat, trying to roll back into the water.

He grips me tightly, and ever so gently, pulls me closer, picking me up effortlessly, and carrying me off. He leaps over the river, and begins running through the woods.

My body begins going numb again, the cold seeming to seep into my skin, freezing everything inside me. Now if only my heart would stop beating. Or freeze over.

I squirm in the killers arms, trying to free myself, but his grip is tight. "Fear not, my child, your time shall come."

He's right; these are the last moments of my life. I should do something about it...so I close my eyes, relaxing in the arms that were used to kill my mother, destroy my life, the arms that are about to destroy me.

"I love you, Mom." I whisper. "Thank you, for everything."

"She can't hear you." He whispers, and then laughs. "And she won't ever, ever again!"

He begins howling, the whole forest echoing this. It's such a sickeningly sweet laugh, the kind that makes others smile. It's too gentle, too subtle, and too happy. I hate it, I hate this man, and now I hate the fact that I even exist at the moment.

"Shut up!" I scream. I try to reach up my arm to smack him, but it falls, limp to my side.

He stops running for a moment, and gently places me on the ground. He cocks his head to the side, thoughtfully considering something.

"Scream again." He orders, sitting down in front of me.

I remain silent, staring up at him. "Scream if you want to live." He suggests, ever so thoughtfully. When I don't make a sound, in one quick move he's pinned me to the ground, his fingertips gently touching my neck.

"Scream. Now." He commands.

When I don't, his knee comes up and smashes into my ribcage. I scream, loud, all the sorrow, pain, humiliation, and overall hatred evident in my voice.

He just sighs. "Pathetic." His voice is truly full of disappointment. "You'll get better at it, I promise." He then picks me up again, and starts running.

I start crying, the pain in my ribs is excruciatingly unbearable. "Kill me now!" I scream.

He just shakes his head. "No." he says flatly, and pulls me closer so that my head rests on his shoulder.

There's only silence, and I begin to wonder where he's taking me. I begin to wonder why he didn't throw me into the fire.

It would have been a lot less painful then. His footsteps match his heartbeat, quick, with a slight pause in between each beat. His breathing is almost non-existent. The forest is hushed; I close my eyes, tears falling down my cheeks as a result.

"Your tears," He suddenly says, "are warm...that will change too, in time."

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to stop the tears, stop time, stop my heart beat, but it doesn't work. Suddenly the murderer stops, in front of a large tree. He places me on the ground, and pulls out a rope from air it seems. "Now stay still, so I don't accidently hurt you." I stay still, in too much pain to fight anymore. He begins tying me to the tree, the ropes tight, practically slicing my skin.

"There," He murmurs, moving back to admire his work. "Perfect."

My eyes fling open. I don't know if he is referring to me, or the ropes he's used to fashion me. Why should I care? He's insane...I rest the back of my head on the tree.

"I love you mom." I whisper one more time.

"She can't hear you!" He shouts now, irritation evident in his voice.

My head shoots up. I narrow my eyes. "Do you believe in God?!" I scream at him. The question catches him off guard, and he then sits down in front of me.

"Why should I? He has done nothing for me, until now he will do everything. Everything." He cocks his head to the side again, thoughtfully. "I don't believe in him, no, but yet he exists nonetheless, my child."

: He stands now, pulling something out of the air again. It's a flame. He seems to hold it in his hand, gently cupping it, and then drops it onto the ropes around me. He then begins singing something in a language I don't understand. I wait, listening to him sing. His voice is sickeningly sweet, like his laugh. It's deep, smooth, and warm, like fire.

That's it...that is what he is: fire. He's a weapon of mass destruction, uncontrollable, uncomprehend able, and yet utterly simple. He is a savage tool. He is nothing but a reckless, insane, serial killer. With that last thought I accept that I truly do have nothing left to live for, and that my last moments will be spent with a man I will hate with all my being for these last few moments. He stops suddenly, crouching. He suddenly stabs my abdomen. I scream, feeling the blood trickle down and onto the ropes wrapped around me.

"Hm..." He mutters. "Yes, my child, it will get better." He strokes my face again, and I cry, my tears slipping onto his fingertips. "Sweet dreams."

As he walks away, he turns once, his eyes seem to be on fire, and the flames burst up, engulfing his image. Engulfing me, my being, my soul, everything, except those last few words. _Do you believe in God? _


	2. 2

** ~For Landon, for being my Light, my Unicorn, and my Angel all in one~**

The ropes fall loosely from my hips. I hear a splash, and the sound of flames hissing in complaint.

"It's okay, you're safe now. I promise." A smooth, even voice whispers.

The ropes are completely pulled off me, and I feel myself lean forward. A hand catches me, holding me upright. The hand positions me so that I'm leaning against the tree for support. Then two warm, strong arms wrap around me, pulling close. They lift me up, and I flinch when one arm brushes past my legs. I'm still afraid to open my eyes, but I know my legs must be incredibly burnt.

Why am I not dead? I should be so dead. I remember it all. The black, instead of white light. The voice instead of angels singing. Death is not at all what people say it is to be. So I died, now why am I alive? I know I'm alive because I can feel it. The air going through my body, the blood in my veins, my little faint heartbeats. I can even feel my eyes moving in my sockets. They're searching for some signs of death as well. Then there's the overwhelming strength. It courses through my body, willing me to finally open my eyes.

I'm shrouded in darkness. That's the first thing I notice. It's not like the darkness I witnessed in death, it's so full of life and whispers and everything that life holds. I see the dark figures of trees, their branches reaching out like gnarled fingers. They look for something to grasp, something to hold. The leaves in the tree's whisper, soft and sweet. The noise tickles my ears, and I breathe in deep, catching the whispers in the air and storing them in my lungs. Even the air smells of life, of leaves, of moist dirt.

I look down, and the sight of my legs makes me gasp. They're perfectly intact, more than intact, actually. There are lines of raw muscle against my pale skin, no bruises, no burns, not even dirt against my bare legs. I raise my arms, to see them unharmed, and my hands the same.

Then I notice something even more important…my shredded clothes. The flames had burnt them, and the fabric is curled and blackened. The burnt shredded remains of my shirt only reach down a little to my thighs, my sleeves completely gone, barely covering my chest.

"Shit," I hiss.

Then I blink, realizing that must be my very first word, technically. My voice is smooth, clear, and quite beautiful. It remains me of my mother's voice when she used to sing. It's deep, promise and pride held in each syllable. I relish the sound, playing it back inside my mind.

"Don't worry; I'll get you clothes as soon as I get you out of this forest."

I turn to look at my rescuer. He looks nothing at all as I'd expected. His face is dirty, stubbles lining his jawline and chin, his eyes a deep blue, have circles beneath them, his hair is unkempt and filthy, oily. Yet his arms are strong enough to hold me, as he carries me off.

"Your name?" I ask, suddenly, surprising myself.

My rescuer looks just as shocked. The emotion flashes in his reflective blue eyes.

'Thomas…Thomas Greene. I'm a priest in this town."

"What town?" I ask, raising my eyebrows. I find it hard to believe someone who looks so tired and dirty is a priest.

"Moonstone, California." He replies, smoothly.

So I'm in the same town. The same town I grew up in…same town I died in, it truly is the only town I've ever known. Moonstone is a small town though; we don't get any vacationers or tourists, only lost people. I didn't even know there was a church in this town, either. As far as I know there are not even enough people in this town to go to church. Now, how did a dirty, tired priest find a young burning girl who was once dead? Is it possible that he brought me back to life? It seems unlikely, but I really don't know what to think or believe anymore.

"How did you find me?" I question.

He gulps, blinking quickly. "I'll explain when we get you inside."

"No!" I shriek. There's a slight scream to my voice, I didn't mean to yell so loud.

Thomas flinches. "I'm sorry…Just tell me now, please." I try again.

He just shakes his head. I narrow my eyes, beginning to become agitated. Something is bubbling up inside me, something I don't recognize. It's not anger, or annoyance, it's something entirely different. It feels like power, like hot bubbling air, ready to explode.

"Tell me now…" I try again. My voice is smooth, no scream in it.

"I can't right now, you need –"

"I need you to tell me how the hell you found me!" There it is; the scream. It's high pitched, making my ears want to curl up and hide inside themselves. It's so forceful that it blows air through the leaves, the sound echoing off the leaves, mixing with their whispers. It frightens me, making me want to curl up and hide somewhere.

What is happening? I squirm in Thomas's arms, until he releases me. I land in a crouch, my reflexes acting on their own. I then spring up. I jump so high in the air, about five feet above Thomas, and land behind him. I turn my head quickly, just in time to watch him back up suddenly, terrified.

"Thank you, for everything." I whisper, but I'm sure he doesn't hear me over the scream that is still echoing.

I sprint off, kicking up dirt and wind behind me. I'm moving so quickly that all the trees blur past. They look like nothing more than shadows. I look ahead, towards the stars and skies. The moon looks like the Cheshire cat's smile. I jump up again, reaching out with my hand, trying to grab onto it. I land back to the ground, all too quickly. But I run forward, as if I'm chasing the moon, the stars audience to our little game. Everything blurs again, with the exception of the moon. I chase it, waiting for my legs to feel exhausted, for any cramps, or just for the feeling of my heart racing. Nothing. No signs of any exhaustion show.

Then I see it, a white blur against the black. I narrow my eyes, my legs automatically switching direction to chase after it. It's him. My murderer or whatever he is. If he isn't my murderer, he is still my mother's. He's running just as fast as me though, so I run faster. I urge my legs to carry me further, closer. I leap through the air, pouncing on him. He flips over, and I jam my knees into his stomach, my fingers grasping his arms, pinning him down.

I open my mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a scream. It whistles through the air, high pitched and full of the prospect of murder. So much rage and sadness in the sound. It continues for what seems like forever. So much larger than the air I had in my body to even create such a sound.

I open my eyes, just to see him smiling, unfazed. My hands clench, fashioning them around his neck.

"You will die; you will feel the pain that I felt, that my mother felt. You sick bastard, die!" I scream. The words sound deeper, more audible, while the scream is high pitch, the words are deep and dark, holding such sinister sounds.

His knee shoots up, into my stomach, knocking the air out of me. I feel myself flying forward, my back hitting a tree. I fall to the ground, expecting pain, but feel nothing. I don't even look up, but lunge in a random direction. I feel his body bend backwards, hitting the ground with a sickening sound. His arms coil around my neck; he lifts me off him, and flips me backwards. Before I even hit the ground, he has jumped up nearly twelve feet, holding me in his arms. As I feel the ground nearing, he grasps my neck with his hand. We hit the ground, his full body weight against my neck. I choke, trying to breathe. He squeezes tighter, I scream. The sound knocks him backwards, literally blowing him away. He hits a tree, head first, landing on the ground with a moan. I get to my feet, contemplating how many different ways I can end him.

He lunges forward, and I think he's about to strangle me again, but instead he wraps his arms around me, and then falls backwards, his arms to his sides. Before I can even react, suddenly I feel a sharp pain in my side. I fly forward, and I hear a sick ripping sound. Shit…my clothes. I feel blood leaking down my skin, and as I hit the ground, I groan. Then there's weight on my abdomen. It seems to press into me, pushes all the air out of my body. I gasp again, my hands clutching the object on my stomach. It's warm and soft to the touch…like fur. I tighten my fingers around it, and fling it backwards.

I open my eyes when the mass is completely off my body. I'm completely dumbfounded by what I see. It's a black _unicorn. A freaking unicorn! _It seems to fly in slow motion, its elegant black body shimmering in the moonlight. It doesn't even hit the ground; it straightens its legs, and then bends them so that its hooves touch the ground before it can fall on its side. It regains its balance completely, and then charges at me, horn pointing straight at my heart. A few seconds before it impacts me completely, I grab the horn, holding it backwards. My bare feet dig into the wet ground, and I begin to push. I strain to push the unicorn forward, as it whinnies in frustration. As my hands slide down its horn, and to the crown of its head, suddenly something passes through me.

_You're so dead, banshee! _A deep voice shrieks in my head.

Startled, I almost stop pushing the unicorn back. Instead I push it back with all the strength in my arms. _Oh, shit…_ I hear in my mind, right before the unicorn goes flying. It hits a tree, snapping it in half. The tree falls forward, but the unicorn jumps in front of it. Light floods around it, rippling at the tip of its horn. The unicorn then touches it to the tree. Instead it flies the other way, falling back into place. It looks as if nothing has happened to it by the time the light fades.

"Okay…what the hell is going on here…?" I mutter.

_You tell me, banshee…_ I hear the voice in my mind again. This time I can tell its male. It's deep and soothing almost, full of sarcasm…and rage. The unicorn snorts heavily, and then begins charging towards me again. I hold my arms out, ready to push it back again. Right before it's about a foot closer to me, it suddenly jumps over me. I turn, but too slowly, and suddenly I'm knocked to the ground again. I feel the air being knocked out of me again. I'm not really sure how much more my lungs can take of this. And besides that fact, it's starting to get really annoying.

"Could you stop doing that?!" I shriek, irritated.

_Then stop attacking me… _ I hear again.

Okay, so I'm clearly not imagining it…"Did…you just _answer_ me?" I mutter.

The unicorn whinnies, irritation evident in the gesture. _Are you an idiot or something? Of course I answered you! _

"Wow, a mythical creature with an attitude..." I mutter, rolling my eyes.

The unicorn looks offended. _You're telling me I have an attitude problem? Look at you! Attacking little boys in the dead of night…Banshee's aren't supposed to just attack random citizens; my little brother has nothing to do with your vengeance! _

"What the hell are you talking about?" I demand. "First of all you're definitely not a little boy…I mean, look at you. Secondly, I'm not a banshee…I'm not even sure what that is. Only vengeance I have against anyone is that murderer…" I look over to see a little boy lying on the ground, where my murderer once was.

The unicorn snorts. _Maybe you're not an idiot…but a delusional psychopath? _The unicorn's remark irritates me.

"I swear…he was right there." I explain, looking over to the little boy.

_I highly doubt my little brother is your murderer…as for you, right now, I'd say you're the murderer. _

"I am not…I was saw him! He was right there. He had black hair a burnt face, laughing black eyes, a smirk, about six foot five?"

The unicorn just shakes its head, and breathes out deeply. I guess that's a unicorn version of a sigh.

The unicorn takes its hoof off my stomach, walking back a couple feet. Suddenly it begins to glow, light wrapping around its body. It begins to fade just enough that I can see its horse body change into a boy. He has shimmery black hair, glittering silky skin. His arms and back are turned to me. The light begins to move down his body…and I realize he's naked. Just as I begin to look away suddenly clothes appear out of nowhere, wrapping around his body. When the light fades away where the unicorn once stood is a tall boy around six three or four, with silky black hair that shimmers in the moonlight, and deep purple eyes. His features are gentle and sharp in some places, but they all come together to make such a handsome face… Beneath his grey t-shirt, muscle lines are evident. He's wearing a leather jacket over the t-shirt, then torn black jeans and black boots.

He walks towards me, his eyes looking over my face, then down my body. He smiles, his eyes flashing. He crouches, taking off his jacket. He leans forward, so close that I can smell him. He smells like vanilla and sunlight.

"You," He whispers softly, "should probably put this on."

He hands me his jacket, and I look down, realizing I'm naked. I look behind me to see the shredded remains of my shirt about twelve feet away from me. I quickly put the jacket around me, and zip it up. I can feel my face begin to get warm. The jacket falls loosely to my knees almost. It's warm, and smells like him. When I look up he's already beside his brother.

I didn't even hear him move. His brother whispers to him, and I watch as he helps him up. When his brother tries to stand he flinches. He gracefully picks him up and walks towards me. Somehow he makes everything look graceful and effortless.

"Good your covered…wouldn't want Claude to see anything he shouldn't," He speaks casually as if nothing just happened.

I raise my eyebrows. "And what about you, seeing anything you shouldn't?" I question.

He looks shocked. "You said it yourself, I'm not a little boy," He smirks," I mean…look at me!" He gestures to his body, moving his little brother to his other arm effortlessly.

I glance down. He is definitely _not _a little boy. Muscles ripple beneath his clothing, which aren't even that tight…that's just how broad they are.

And now looking at his face closer…he's more than handsome, he's gorgeous. His purple eyes sparkle in the moonlight, catching the light and the darkness evenly, and yet his eyes are still so reflective. I can see everything, even me, but through his eyes the world seems so much brighter and brilliant. His skin is pale, his features gentle yet striking still. His perfect lips are in a smirk that really doesn't suit his face, and yet looks so perfect.

His laugh brings me back to reality. It's a beautiful laugh, full of warmth and emotion. "You going to stare all night, or are you going to get up and tell me your name?" He asks, holding out a hand.

I take his hand, and he pulls me up smoothly. My feet don't even touch the ground, but once they do I realize he has pulled me in close. So close that our noses are almost touching. He's taller than me, he's intentionally leaning down so that our faces are close. He laughs, apparently getting the reaction that he wanted from me. I feel my face grow warm, and smile despite myself.

"Your name?" He asks again, smiling now.

"Lacey…" I mutter, trying to sound calm.

"Calvin," He replies, his smile widening. "Calvin Greene and this is Claude."

I look down, for the first time looking at Claude up close. His hair is dirty blonde; his eyes purple like his brothers, but not even nearly as beautiful. His face is also perfect, his features shy and cute. He smiles timidly.

"H-hello…I'm Claude," He whispers shyly. "S-sorry if I-I upset you in anyway way…"

"Oh…no I'm sorry, I just thought you were someone else…" I stammer, embarrassed.

More like _something _else…

What _did _happen to my murderer, he was right there in the spot where Claude was lying. Literally right there, then Mr. Sparkly-Pointy shows up and stabs me.

I suddenly reach down to where Calvin stabbed me. I look down to see blood dripping down my legs, but the jacket covers the wound. It's about ten inches from my heart. So that was what he was aiming for… I should probably try not to attack his little brother ever again. That is, if I want to live long enough to capture my actual murderer.

"Alright, so if we're done with introductions…" Calvin breaks the silence, "then we should probably show Lacey home, don't you think Claude?" Calvin pokes his little brother teasingly, and Claude blushes.

Claude's eyes look towards me, and he stares for a moment. Our eyes lock, and he blushes, then nods.

Calvin grabs my hand, interlocking his fingers with mine, and begins pulling me along.

"Where are we going?" I ask, trying to keep up with Calvin's long strides.

"My place…" Calvin replies, looking over his shoulder. "I mean, you do need a place to stay, right?"

Then I remember the fire. The burning. Everything. "Yeah…I do." I almost whisper it.

Calvin seems to sense my uneasiness. "Alright then…"

He lets go of my hand, gently putting Claude on the ground. Light begins to engulf him, and the same thing happens before, but in reverse. His clothes vanish, as if their being burnt away by the light, then he's completely consumed, and once the light fades in front of me is an eight foot, dazzling unicorn. He snorts softly, walking towards me. His head dips, nuzzling the top of his head into my hand. As my fingertips make contact with his head, something seems to wash over me. Then I hear the voice in my mind.

_Get on, alright, Lacey. That is…if you trust me. _

I think about it, and then nod. He turns, exposing his side so I may climb on. Claude climbs on first, his fingers trembling a little as he grabs hold of the end of Calvin's mane. I jump on, sitting awkwardly on Calvin's back.

"You should probably hold onto me…" Claude suggests, turning to me shyly. "Calvin goes really fast…"

I awkwardly wrap my arms around Claude's stomach, leaning forward a little.

Calvin whinnies, and begins to trot forward, building up speed. Light begins to shimmer around us, and suddenly everything's too much of a blur to even make out what I'm seeing. Claude was wrong. Saying Calvin is fast is a complete and utter understatement. In not even two seconds, Calvin begins to slow, and suddenly I can see again. We're in front of a large log cabin, a small barn behind it, with tall trees surrounding it. Calvin turns in a circle, stamping the ground.

_Alright, everybody off. _

I let go of Claude, and he slides off naturally, like he's done this a lot. I climb off next, slowly, afraid to touch the ground. Calvin gently nudges me with his side, and then moves closer to help me regain my balance.

"Thanks," I mutter, embarrassed.

_No problem…Are you alright? _

I feel sick to my stomach, the images of what I just saw, mixed with the images of my burning house, and my murderers face. I want to throw up, I want to curl up and hide somewhere, and more than anything I want to find my murderer and kill him. End him the way he ended my mother.

"I'm fine…" I lie, and I walk off, digging my toes in the ground to make sure I walk straight.

_No you're not…_ I hear Calvin's voice in my mind before he changes back.

As I see a light flashing out of the corner of my eye, Claude grabs my hand, leaning against me. As I turn to look at him, his face is red, his eyes full of wariness, but no fear. His hand is warm and soft against my own. It feels like it belongs there almost. I smile. Calvin then grabs my other hand, and they both lead me towards the house. Calvin opens the door with his free hand, and allows me and Claude to enter first.

The house is actually a lot larger than it looks from the outside. The living room looks inviting, with a long tan couch, with fluffy blankets folded over it, and large red pillows. On the walls are vibrant paintings of different animals and flowers. A TV set is awkwardly positioned in the corner of the room, and a coffee table in the center of the room, beside the couch, On the coffee table are two mugs and a guitar. Then in the other corner of the room is a bookshelf and desk with a computer and more notebooks. To the side of the room only a couple feet away from me is the stairs, a blanket draped across the banister. The room itself is dimly lit, inviting, and warm.

"Well…this is it." Calvin says, shyly. "Then upstairs is me and Claude's bedroom…and a bathroom if you need it. Then behind the stairs is the kitchen and library…"

"Alright…" I reply, awkwardly.

"You can sleep on the couch; I'll get you some blankets."

"Oh no…" I say, eyeing all the blankets on the couch. "I think I'll be fine."

"Oh, no, really." Calvin objects. "Those blankets are dirty; I'll get you clean ones from my room."

Before I can argue, he runs upstairs, so fast that all I feel is a swift gust of wind. Then he's back before I can even blink or exhale, or even say _wow_. He has two large pillows a folded blanket, and about ten different button up shirts in his arms.

"Um I kind of saw that you needed clothes…" Then he pauses, realizing his mistake. "Oh…I don't mean saw…okay, well, you know what I mean. I'll buy you actual girl's clothes in the morning…but for now you can wear these." He hands me the shirts.

He then dashes over to the couch and sets up a neat bed before I can even blink.

"And here you go…" He scratches the back of his head. His hair stands up straight for a second, but fixes itself. He really is perfect. "I'll go get you some food…"

He dashes into the kitchen, and I walk over to the couch, lying down. My body sinks into the couch. I lie there, facing the ceiling. It's wooden, with a large golden fan spinning slowly. Two five foot windows on either side as it curves. I can see the moon…a Cheshire cat smile.

Calvin gently sets down a plate on the coffee table, bringing me back to reality. On the plate is soup, still warm, steam rising up and curling in the air. Then beside the soup is two slices of toasted bread, and a tall glass of water. I stare at the food objectively. Then stare up at Calvin, who seems to be contemplating something.

"Look I know you're hungry…just eat. You can trust me," He promises, his eyes locking on mine.

I reach for the bread first, and hold it to my mouth. I take a bite. It's warm, crunchy, and surprisingly tastes amazing.

"I, um, kind of cooked it with Light…" Calvin says, quickly. "I hope I didn't burn it…"

"No, no." I reassure him. "It's perfect."

**… … … …**

"Good night," Calvin calls. Then he runs up the stairs, looking back only to make sure I'm still there.

Claude stands beside me. Then he leans down, hugging me. He lingers and I can hear him open his mouth to speak.

"I think," he begins calmly, "that Calvin has a crush on you."

He then pulls away quickly, and turns. He climbs the stairs, and only stops once to say good night. His whole gesture leaves me shocked and a little pleased almost, but also completely confused.

Boy goes from trying to kill me to suddenly having a little crush on me…Oh well, he's also a unicorn, and I'm apparently a banshee. Some strange things have happened tonight anyways…I guess it isn't that unrealistic.

I stare up at the moon. Then there's the murderer…I'm going to find him. I _will _find him, and once I do…he's so dead.


	3. 3

_If you want to save your soul, the soul of your beloved, and your future, you must stop the darkness from falling. There must be no sunset, there must be no fading, the light must rule forever. Plunge the world in darkness, and your life will fall as well. It is your choice._

That's what the voice said, it repeats in my mind, in my dream. With each word, each breath that the voice seems to take, the flicker of the flame brightens, then fades. An invisible candle, or hand, holding it there. It's just like when I died. I feel the chill, the wind brushing past me as the flame goes out. In the wisp of the rising smoke I see faces. I see myself, crying, I see Calvin, looking sick and pale and fragile. Then finally, I see my killer, laughing, his hand falling down, darkness cupped in it. His hand falls down across the land, the forest, my burning house, plunging everything into darkness. Then towards the side is a slight peek of light. It's the sun, and he cups it in his hands, admiring it for a moment, and then quickly closes his hand into a fist. Everything goes dark, and I can hear my scream echoing.

_I trust you will make your decision with your last breath, your last test of faith. Apart of me lies in you, I trust you will not take me for granted. Take care, Lacey. _

I reach out for something, feeling myself slipping, but I find nothing. There's only darkness, and I can feel myself falling, the breath catching in my throat. I scream, flailing my arms, kicking my legs. Despite all my efforts I continue to fall. When I land, I jerk up, only to find that my eyes are open and that I'm on the couch in Calvin's house.

I hold my hand to my heart. Its beating rapidly, it seems to be screaming as well. I can hear the scream still echoing in my head, and I put my hands over my ears. I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm my heart and my mind. I close my eyes, and tears fall down my cheeks. The sting of the words and the feeling of all the winds and darkness clutch my heart. I can't breathe, I feel as if I'm suffocating on my own thoughts. I feel like the darkness is going to swallow me whole, even here. Then those words…_I trust you will not take me for granted. _Nothing the voice has said makes any sense, and yet it numbs me, makes me panic. I just don't know what to do.

I keep my hands pressed firmly to my ears, the echo fading and yet still so vulgar. So loud, seeming to bounce off my skull making me want to scream, but I know if I do I'll just hear more echoing, but this time inside and outside of my head.

Suddenly I hear something, besides the echoing, besides the tears on the verge of breaking free. It's soft and sweet, a melody. It's a guitar, three notes played over and over, then four more added until suddenly it's a melody again. It's beautiful, and as it reached the third note again, it gets louder. Instead of playing the next note over again, like the last time, I hear a different sound, then a pause. It lasts only for a moment, but in that moment I still feel my longing and take my hands off my ears, and think of at least ten reasons why the sound shouldn't have ended.

It comes back on, just as soft as the beginning before, but now there are words. They're soft and sweet and remind me of lullabies being carried by the wind. The words seem so far away but so close. I open my eyes, looking around me.

The sound is coming from outside. The room is still dark, and as I look up through the wide winds I can see the night sky has streaks of pink and orange and purple. It's beautiful, the colors contrasted with the soft glow of the stars. The glow gets fainter and fainter as the sun rides up into the sky, chasing away the moon. I lie back down, looking up at them, the fear and numbness of the nightmare leaving my body and mind.

I can still hear the soft voice, it's getting closer. The door opens, and I curl up and close my eyes, gripping the blankets around me tightly. It's Calvin. He walks closer, his voice getting softer as he does, and sits at least ten feet away from me, on the floor. I turn; keeping my eyes closed. I slowly open them. He has the guitar in his lap, and strap over his shoulder, and sometimes as he plays he rests his head on it. He sings softly, but I can still tell that his voice is amazing from what I'm hearing. He plays three notes quickly, and then four different notes follow, and then repeat.

My eyes widen, and I get a better view of him. He's shirtless, the guitar covering most of his bare chest and stomach, he's in black plaid pajama pants, and his feet are bare and slightly damp from walking outside. He seems to shine, the first sun's rays falling in through the windows and onto his tousled hair and fair skin. Part of his hair is sticking up like it wants to defy gravity, and the other parts are flatten down, like they are hiding. His soft lips curl into a smile of sorts when he sings, and his voice portrays his feelings as much as his reflective purple eyes do.

He's singing a song about secrets, his voice getting louder as he goes into the chorus. When he says _tell me what you want to hear _his voice takes a deeper depth, as if it as more significance to it than the words imply. _Something that'll light those ears, _he sings softly. His voice is so melodic, smooth, gentle almost. Then he suddenly looks up, and I close my eyes. I don't hear him move, or get up, he doesn't even say anything. When I open my eyes a tiny bit again, he's smiling. He's staring at me, smiling gently, his eyes shimmering with something I don't recognize. He looks up at the ceiling again, looking through the window. When he looks back at me the shimmering in his eyes is gone.

**… … … …**

I'm leaving. I meant it, I think to myself, when I said I should find my killer. I've thought a lot about this, and I know it's what I should do…but it's not what I want to do. Thinking about Mom and everything she's done, everything she's taught me. She wouldn't want me to be a killer. She would say this is my second chance at life, which means this time when I die God has twice as much expectation.

She didn't get a second lease on life. She deserved it more than me. She raised me by herself after all. She accepted all the challenges and problems that come with raising a daughter on your own.

I look up at the stairs; looking at them more closely, it almost looks like they are glued to the wall. White specks are chipped at the top of the wood where the wall meets the banister. Then the railing wraps around to meet the floor revealing the four closed doors, it looks like a terrace out of a fairytale. It's all made of timber, right out of the woods, green, red, and orange quilts hanging over the sides of it. The quilts remind me of leaves.

I bend my knees, and leap up, landing in a crouch on the soft carpeted floor upstairs. I silently open Calvin's door. I know it's his because earlier when he got up to leave, I watched him walk into his room, guitar slung over his shoulder in a natural looking way.

I walk in, his floors carpeted too. His room's small, various sheets of notebook paper taped to the purple walls. The drawings are of many different things, ones of himself as a unicorn, another's of Claude smiling, there are numerous pictures of flowers and trees and lovely sunsets on beaches, and finally, above his bed, is a picture of a stunning woman. She has long strands of hair, trailing down to her waist almost; she smiles tenderly, her eyes iridescent. Her features are like Calvin's, gentle and stiff in ways, but I can see where he gets his smile from. I didn't know he could draw, and if I had, I wouldn't have imaged it was this good.

Calvin lies on his bed. His bed's next to a window so that the light from outside falls on his fair skin and dark hair. He looks happy when he sleeps, his face care free, delicate looking. His guitar is lying on top of his stomach, and sheets of paper are askew atop his bed. Some have drawings, and some don't.

Before I even think, I'm by his side, on my knees. I lean in close, so close that I can see the tiny shadows his long, dark eyelashes leave across his face. I kiss his forehead, whispering goodbye, so quiet it sounds more like an exhale than words.

I get up, and grab the door, ready to gently close it behind me, but I stop. I look at the door closely, and turn it more so that I can see the back of it. Taped to it is a picture of me, I'm lying on the couch, blankets tightly wrapped around myself, my hair falls in loose strands across my nose and forehead, and other parts falling down my shoulder. Light gently strokes my hair and face. He has drawn me smiling. My eye lashes caress my cheeks, and leave tiny, detailed shadows. I look back at him, still sleeping, still delicate looking.

**… … … …**

The bus station smells of garbage and wet pavement. The people around me either smell like smoke, alcohol, or wet dogs. This place isn't very appealing, but it's the only bus station farthest from Calvin's house that isn't out of this town. My guess is my killer couldn't have gotten far, and if he knows I'm dead, then he's still in town. I figured I should stay away from Calvin's house. It'll make good-bye easier…not that there was anything sentimental between us. Also, I need to get used to the different parts of the town, which includes the buses and their routes. More importantly, I need to find where my killers been hiding.

I can already hear the bus's engine roaring, it sounds distant, but it's getting closer.

Suddenly a cloud of alcohol seems to fill my body as I inhale. I feel someone grasp my arm, and out of the corner of my eye I can see the bus coming up fast. I am drawn back, and I let myself be hauled back. I know if I need to I can destroy whoever is grasping my arm.

When I see the persons face, I'm disappointed. The man looks drunk, and like he hasn't shaven in a long time. He smells like alcohol and smoke, and I realize, the smell of alcohol and smoke that I detected earlier, must be coming from him solely. His eyes look far away, and he has a smile on his face that reminds me of the crazy coyote from the Loony Tones. He looks at me with those crazed eyes. They look hungry, far away, and like they have lost all sanity.

"Heeeey!" He bellows, hiccupping. He steps closer to me, running his hand down my back. "Why don't you sit with me?" He suggests, gesturing towards the approaching bus.

When he begins moving his hand again, I grab his arm, squeezing. He squirms, but his smile widens. I grab his other arm and remove it from my back.

"Oh, feisty are you?" He says, laughing loudly. He pulls me close to him. "Let's dance!"

I'm about ready to send him flying in front of the bus. It would be perfect, the impact. If he is shoved correctly it should break his neck, or at least some limbs. I tense, ready to push him, but suddenly I'm dragged backwards again.

"Lucy! There you are!" Someone squeals from behind me. "I've been looking all _over _for you!"

When I see the persons face, I almost gasp. She's beautiful. Her hair is long, as black as midnight, and her eyes are so florescent, a deep blue with specks of purple and black. Her features are striking, and she has an innocent but fierce look to herself. She looks maybe eighteen or nineteen. She smiles at me, making her face seem even more beautiful. I stand back, but she tightens her grip on my arm. She looks over to the drunken man, and I get it. She thinks she's saving me.

"You can't just go running off like that! Gosh, I was so worried, Lucy!" She says, giggling. She gently punches my arm. "Really, don't scare me like that, _ever_, okay?"

The bus pulls into the stop, and she practically drags me along. We sit way in the back, in a far corner, people fill in around us. She sits across from me. When I look up at her she suddenly has a notepad in her hand.

"You should really be more careful," She says, her voice has lost its bubbliness. Instead it's been replaced by a deep tone that seems to hold power and wisdom. "That guy is a creep, honestly, watch who's stalking you next time…"

She doesn't look up at me once while she talks. Instead she keeps drawing, the pencil in her hand seeming to move at the speed of light. She finally looks up at me when she finishes, her black hair flying through the air as her head snaps up. She hands me the notepad. She's drawn a picture of me, my hair flowing down my shoulders like tiny waterfalls. My eyes shimmer, dark blots and sparkles making them up into something beautiful. The level of detail and how fast she drew all of it is exceedingly impressive. At the bottom I see she's signed her name in a quick, cursive, scrawl. _Amelia Price. _

"Amelia?" I almost whisper.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks…a lot."

"No problem." The bus stops and she stands up. "See ya around, I guess." She waves, winking at me.

I watch her go, and then look down at the notepad in my lap. I don't know if she left it here on purpose or not…I flip through it, but it's the first page of the notepad that the pictures on, and contains no other pictures throughout the whole thing.

I look closer at myself, how she captured every feature perfectly. Then I look at my eyes, and all the dots and sparkles, and I notice something. Suddenly all of them come together, forming smaller images. Then I see it. In my eyes I see my mother, on the ground, looking lifeless, and my killer, his face skewed in a murderous smile, his eyes seeming to look directly at me. Then in the far corner, an angel, wings spread, fire surrounding it, making it almost look like a star. I don't recognize the person, but he has fair hair, and it curls at the ends, his eyes are open wide, sparkling with small erupting flames, he's shirtless, and fire engulfs his body at his hips. He's just as beautiful as Calvin, but in a way so different as well.

I don't even know what to make of this; I just stare blankly at the page. Suddenly everything around me feels cold and numb again, just like the night I was murdered. I can hear his laugh echoing in my mind, the screams, the shouts, everything. Fear wells up inside me, but I push it down. In the very pit of my stomach I can feel my rage sparking. I push my fear down more, and let my rage devour it. I stand up, slipping the notepad under my arm. I walk to the front of the bus, grabbing the stick that opens the door. The door opens with a groan and a hiss, and I close my eyes. The bus driver yells at me, but I jump out the bus, the bus driver's shouts being drowned in the wind. I land on my feet at least thirty feet away from the bus.

I hear the bus stop, the engine groaning, but I sprint off, making sure no one can see me. I'm going to find him, even if it takes my whole life I will. I'll find him. I'll forget about God, and second chances, expectations, everything. He forgot about me, he let me die, let my mother die, and let my killer live. Soon, I'll have it, my revenge, and when I do everything will make sense.

**… … … …**

The forest and brush looks familiar here, even though I'm all the way on the other side of town. I navigate it effortlessly, nimbly slipping through the trees. I smile, watching all the trees blur past me. I sing sometimes, some lullabies that my mother sang to me when I was younger. I remember them all too clearly. Looking back, honestly, they weren't lullabies. Many were cruel, violent, and held a lot of profanity, but she always sang them like lullabies. The songs always put me to sleep, anyways, and I guess that's all that really mattered. One in particular I really liked, it was about no one in particular, and it was called Hearing Damage. It was about the voices within, all the demons inside. It was about the fear of failure and inadequacies.

I hum the song.

_A drunken salesmen, your hearing damage, your mind is restless. You say you're getting better, but you don't feel any better. Your speakers are blowing, your ears are wrecking, your hearing damage. _

That was the part that always put me to sleep. It was really odd, what my mother sang to me, but each song describes one problem that we had, or something she taught me, or something we've gone through together. Right now this song reminds me of my current problem.

_You wish you felt better, you wish you felt better._

My heart hurts, and my breath catches in my throat. I already miss her. I already need her. I need her to sing those words to me, because with each lyric, it's like she's promising me something. It's like she's still here.

I stop where I am, and I scale a tree, to hide myself. I'm at the very top of it within a few seconds, and I perch on a branch. I cry loudly, but instead of the usual crying sounds I produce, it sounds melodic. I guess that comes with being a banshee.

I watch a tear fall, and in that tear there seems to be a wisp of smoke. It looks sinister, like if I were to touch it, it would burn me. I shrink away from the tear, moving back so much that I feel my back touch the base of the trunk. As I watch the tear go down, suddenly in it I see something falling. It looks to be engulfed in flames, and it falls in such a fashion that reminds me of a phoenix. I look away to see not far is the beach and ocean. The shore reaches up to a hill that slopes down. Slowly as it rolls downwards, it seems to transform, grass, to mud, to dirt, and then finally sand. The figure splashes into the ocean, the water bubbling, and even from here I can see steam rising up from the ocean.

I stand, jumping from this tree to another tree about ten feet away. I continue jumping from tree to tree, afraid to touch the ground, until finally I'm at the hill's edge. I look out, seeing the smoking water. I take a few steps back, running up, using the branch beneath me like a diving board. I jump up and fly through the air, then finally dive into the ocean. The waves catch me, dragging me under. I kick, clawing at the water. I see the figure falling in slow motion, drifting further towards the ocean's floor. The cold grips my skin, trying to find all the warmth in me and tear it out. I keep kicking, swimming, until I'm close enough to the figure that I can almost reach him. I reach out with my arm, grabbing hold of something soft and feathery. I tug gently, and then grab hold of what I think is an arm. I wrap my arm firmly around it and begin kicking off faster, willing myself to speed through the water. I resurface, pulling the figure up next to me.

I look up to the sky as I begin to try to catch my breath. It's still dark and gloomy, but almost in the center of the sky is a large break in the clouds, as if something fell through them. Light floods in through the hole, shining on the spot in the water where the figure I'm holding fell. I kick off, towards land. In a few moments I'm dragging the body onto land. I cough; the bitter taste of salt in my mouth. I shiver as the cold breeze seems to grab at me and my clothes, pulling me back towards the ocean. The rising tide grabs hold of my ankles, making my feet sink deeper into the wet sand. I trudge forward, dragging the body that seems to get heavier as I move along. I drop the body's arm gently, falling down next to it.

I look, for the first time, at the body. It's a boy. His face is soaked and limp looking, his mouth open in a way that makes it look like he was knocked unconscious. His eyebrows are knitted as if he's deep in thought. His wet, dirty blonde hair cascades and coheres to his face. Even though at the moment he looks weak and vulnerable, he's ridiculously handsome. I look down to see he's wearing an opened button up shirt. It's singed where the buttons used to be, torn and tattered, clinging to his bare chest. His pants are torn and scorched as well. Limply hanging around him are _wings. _His wings are white, blackened in certain parts like bruises, dirt and sand stick to the elegant feathers.

I put two hands to his chest and firmly push down, quickly placing my ear to his chest. I can hear it, his heart beating faintly. I continue pushing down, then placing my ear on his chest. Each time I do…it seems to be getting warmer. His heart beat doesn't waver, but now when I place my ear to his chest it _burns. _I quickly bring my head back up, putting my hands to my cheek. I push down on his chest one more time, and he gasps. He coughs up water and…and _light. _It sparkles, lingering in the air like ribbons, they twirl for a moment, sparkling one more time and fading.

Suddenly everything around me seems to get brighter. Out of the corners of my eyes all I can see is brilliant white light.

I almost fall back, but he's up at the speed of light, grabbing hold of me. He holds me close and I feel that burning feeling again. He holds me closer now, so close that I can _feel _his heart beating. I can't breathe, I feel as if I'm burning, from the inside out… I try to scream…but no noise comes out of my mouth. I gasp for air, and it sounds like I'm choking. I try to push away from him, but my hands automatically feel burnt, as if something's being seared into me.

I gasp one more time, a nauseating sound. He finally releases me from his grip, and I seem to fall backwards in slow motion.

I don't even feel the ground, instead I feel like the searing flames are slowly fading away. Right before the darkness overwhelms me I feel so cold that I shiver.

**… … … …**

_I have sent you love, a guard, a truth. You must cling to this truth; you must use it over the darkness. Truth is one of the strongest things in life. The first, being love, Lacey. Find it, keep it, hold it close, and never ever let it go. That is…if you want to live. _

That makes no sense! I try to scream, but nothing comes out. All I can do is watch the flame, watch it flicker and fade, watch the same things I watched this morning, with one exception. This time when everything goes dark…instead of a scream, I hear a voice. It sings sweetly, and continues getting louder. Then I see a light, it glows, not like the candle flame had, but like the phoenix I witnessed fall from the sky. It brightens, coming closer. It's a figure, tall, slender, and literally glowing with an aura of power. Its presence weakens my knees, making my heart beat faster in panic and fear. I fall to the ground, my knees echoing against the invisible force holding me up. Something tightens around my arms and shoulders, and I feel as if I'm being lifted.

The figure is getting closer and I realize it's an angel. Its eyes and wings glow like small bonfires, the aura around it made up of flames as well. It sings, the sound getting louder. It seems to be burning something inside me, something cold and sinister. The other half of me embraces it, allowing the other half of me to burn. My heart beats promptly, practically screaming in my chest. I put my hand over it, just to feel like I've been lite on fire again. Everything burns.

My eyes snap open. Holding me from behind is something I can't see, but as I look down I see two tan, muscular arms wrapped around me. The angel in front of me levitates without its burning wings moving. It seems to be as bright as the sun, and I try to turn my head. Something in me burns again, and then suddenly the pain spikes. It's excruciating. I scream, the scream being ripped out of me from somewhere deep and cold inside me. It echoes, full of pain and sorrow. It sounds as if I'm begging for mercy. The person behind me tightens their grip. I tense.

I close my eyes. Mom used to say if ever something or someone holds you back…knock them down, because no one should be allowed to hold me back from what I'm meant to be or do.

I elbow the person behind me, putting all the strength in my arm into the one action. I hear them gasp, and I turn to see them fly backwards. They hit a tree and groan.

"Great…one more person stronger than me. Wonderful." It's a male voice.

He raises his head, watching me with some sort of _interest. _

Great one more ridiculously gorgeous person. What is up with this town?

He has deep blue eyes like the rising tide and the sky mixed together, and then dead at the center is a profound black. His hair is like the color of caramel, his skin sun-kissed, his cheeks slightly flushed. He flashes me a knowing smile, slowly getting up and dusting off his pants. He has black wings.

I turn back to the angel in front of me. They are no longer singing. They're eyes seem to be on fire, they're wings black now. They levitate still, their hair flipping in the breeze. There is still too much light around them for me to be able to see their face or body clearly.

They narrow their eyes, the flames looking as if they are almost diminishing.

"You should be dead," They seem irritated, bothered that they even have to say anything.

"Yeah well I'm not…" I say, shrugging. "Sorry."

I lunge up, barely having to make any effort to leap up close enough to them. Just as I'm a few inches away from them, I'm pulled back down to the ground. I'm flipped over and pinned, my shoulders screaming in pain under the overwhelming heat I'm suddenly feeling.

It's the boy again, but now he looks angry. His eyebrows are closely knit, his blue eyes dancing, trying to look through me. I feel myself heating up inside as he looks into my eyes. As if just by the heat in his hands and his stare, he has started a fire inside me. I close my eyes and open my mouth. I inhale sharply, the scream bubbling up inside me seeming to whip out the fire sparking inside me. I scream, and feel the weight of his body fly off me. He just groans as he goes flying through the air. I open my eyes to see him nearly falling to the ground. He's just inches away before his black wings give one defiant flap, and he soars up at least twelve feet into the air.

"You know," He says, looking over at the fiery angel, "this whole "weakling" thing is getting pretty annoying."

The fiery angel doesn't say anything, just glares at me.

"You should be dead," The fiery angel repeats.

"I agree…" The boy adds. "That should have burned up all the darkness inside you."

I just look at him. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you should be dead right now," he replies, shrugging.

He then looks over to the fiery angel. "I think she was just recently murdered…I saw it inside her, the confusion."

The fiery angel just nods.

"What now?" The boy asks, gracefully flapping his wings.

The fiery angel narrows its eyes again. "Kill her."

Before I can even react the boy has materialized in front of me, and grabbed me. He flies up with me close to his chest, so that I feel a slight burn again. I can't move. He flies up so high that I can feel the clouds on my face. They dampen my face so much that it feels like it's raining even though all I feel is mist. Then suddenly he stops, turns, and begins diving towards the ground, with me outstretched in his arms. I squirm, but he tightens his grip.

I feel the ground nearing, the air popping in my ears, my heart racing. I brace myself for the impact. I can almost already hear the sound of cracking bones and the rush of blood to different parts of my body. Here it comes… I wait. Nothing.

I open my eyes. All I see is light. Well maybe I'm already dead? No…I'm being held up by something. I can feel myself being turned, and I look over to see the boy I saved kneeling his hand outstretched. His head is bowed and his jaw is clenched, the muscles in his arms rippling. This time he has no wings though. He drops his arm, and I gently fall to the ground. His head snaps up and he materializes next to me. He glares at the other boy with the black wings.

He turns completely…and I see on his back, where his wings once were, the skin is reddened. His skin a slight pink in two spots where his shoulder blades begin, and then down almost to the waistband of his pants. I touch his back, the pink spot, without even thinking. He flinches under my touch, tensing, but remains close to me. Something flashes it his eyes, it looks like light, but it passes quickly. He then knits his eyebrows, confused. He opens his mouth to speak, but then closes it, still confused.

He tries again. "Th-thank you…" He whispers timidly, saying it more like a question than a statement.

I smile at him and he blushes. He really is gorgeous. His dirty blonde hair has dried now, curling at the ends and around his ears.

"C-can you take your hand off my back?" He then adds, shyly looking over to my outstretched arm.

I quickly pull my hand away, and I see his shoulders relax. "Thank you…" he murmurs.

He then disappears, vanishing into the air in a flash of light. He materializes in front of the boy with the black wings. He punches his face and the boy goes flying, quickly stopping himself again with a jerk of his wings. The boy lunges again, but this time the boy with the black wings holds both his fists, pushing him back. I watch the boy's arms tensed, and light seems to be flashing through both the boys fingers. Suddenly the boy with the wings lets go, shaking his hands. When I look they are slightly seared. The burns quickly fade away, small lines of light quickly moving up the burns like stiches until they all meet at the middle. Then the light fades to reveal perfectly unharmed skin.

The boy lunges again, grabbing the black winged boy's neck in his hand. Even though he doesn't have wings he seems to float through the air with such grace. He drops him to the ground, pinning him there, squeezing his neck. The boy pushes up with his wings, gripping the boy's arm as he's being choked. He pushes up one more time with his wings, and pushes the boy off with his arms. The boy goes flying, hitting the ground with a loud grunt.

The black winged boy doesn't waste any time. He materializes in front of me again in flash of light, grabbing hold of me. His fingers grip my neck, tightening quickly. I feel some invisible force moving my head up until I'm looking into his eyes. They begin to spark the fire inside of me again. It's agonizing, and I begin to scream, but the scream gets weaker as the burning inside me gets stronger.

One thing I'd like to know at this moment…before I die of course…is why everyone suddenly just wants to kill me. I'm just so popular with the mythical creatures around here apparently.

He squeezes one more time, and a final cry comes out of my mouth. I feel tears streak down my cheeks, falling onto his hands.

Well if that question is going to go unanswered before I die…here's a conclusion for my short second life: life ultimately _sucks. _

I can feel my heart beating quickly, and it just all feels so repetitive, so predictable. This has all happened before. Soon it's going to stop. Then there it is. _Boom…. Boom…. Boom. _My heart beat slowing. I can practically feel my heart pulling inwards, about to move outwards again, the last time it ever feel. It's inching closer…the movement. Then right before it pushes outwards, right before it gets ready to stop, something freezes me up inside. Everything slows. I feel the fingers gripping my neck begin to slowly move away, as well as the body warmth being given off by the boy with the black wings. I open my eyes slowly, to see him being pulled back in slow motion. I swear, out of the corner of my eye, I can actually see the fiery angle inhale in slow motion.

My eyes move to see to the side, the boy without the wings being pulled back as well. He was trying to save me again. I look directly to my right and see another fiery angel, this once shining brighter though. Their arm is outstretched, their fingers looking to be reaching to the sky. Their breathing is fast, I can see the fire in their eyes moving. Their wings beat fast, causing small amounts of sand to rise up, but fall back down by the gusts of wind being blown around by the wings. The slow motion has no effect on the angel.

Finally when the black winged boy is about ten feet away from me, the speed goes back to normal. I fall to the ground, the bright fiery angel finally exhales, and the one to my right is suddenly in front of me. Their arms are outstretched, keeping everyone away from me.

"That's enough!" The angel booms. Their voice is a mix of two it seems, one deep and raging, the other high pitched and sounding unsure of itself.

"James, what are you doing?!" The black winged angel asks.

"He won't reply, he's being controlled by the Light, Derek," The fiery angel replies, sighing in irritation. "I guess this means there will be no killing the banshee."

The fiery angel sighs, dropping to the ground. The light fades away slowly, swirling around the angel like a dust cloud. Finally when the light fades, standing a few feet away from me is Amelia Price. Her wings stretch out around her, reaching outwards gracefully. She still has that slight aura about her, the presence seeming to make the gravity around me stronger. Amelia narrows her eyes, taking a step towards me. The angel in front of me moves it hand in front of me again, stopping Amelia, rendering her unable to move. She just sighs.

"Really, James, really?" She asks the blazing angel.

The flames around the angel brighten so that it makes it hard to see anything else. The angel twinkles like a star – no like a supernova. Bright and powerful, it's light spreading across the land evenly, reaching out for something unseen.

"Do not move forward," James bellows.

Amelia holds her hands up in surround, and James places her on the ground. Derek is now by Amelia's side, wrapping his arms around her waist, holding her close. He looks up at James expectantly. The boy without the wings walks forward, watching me closely with determination in his eyes.

James completely turns his head to watch the boy walk towards me, but makes no move to stop him. Once he is a few feet away from me, he looks at James expectantly as well. James looks him over…wait no, looks _through _him, and then nods his approval. The boy materializes in front of me. He grabs my hand and pulls me close to him.

James floats back down the ground slowly, the light whipping around him, not fading like Amelia's aura did. It explodes and then suddenly standing in front of me is a little boy with red hair, big, innocent green eyes, and knitted eyebrows. He scratches his head, walking over to Amelia. She pulls him into her arms tenderly, and he hugs her.

"James?" I say, looking over at him.

He turns his head, staring at me and gasps. "Amelia! She's a banshee!" He says, gasping, his eyes seem to glow.

Amelia nods. "Yes, we know James. Derek just tried to kill her, but you just saved her. She's safe, don't worry."

"If she's safe then why did Derry Bear try to kill her?" James asks, confused.

"We didn't know she was safe until you saved her," Amelia explains, patiently.

"Oh, okay. I think I understand," James says, looking back at me with a smile on his face.

"Wait…" James says, exasperated. "Who's he?"

"We don't know yet, but he really likes the banshee."

James chuckles. "You have a crush on Lacey?" He asks the boy in front of me, giggling uncontrollably.

"H-her names Lacey?" The boy asks, having difficulty forming the words. They sound awkward as he pronounces them.

"Yup!" James giggles, cheerfully. "I saw that when I saw she was a banshee, it's written in light right there," He points at where my heart should be located.

His eyes seem to glow more as he looks up at me. James untangles himself from Amelia's arms and walks over to us. He stands in front of the boy, who tenses, and holds out a hand.

"Hi Evan, I'm James," He says, looking down at his hand.

Evan smiles, making his face light up. "Hi, James…"

He then shakes his head. "So that's my name, huh?"

"Yup, it's just when I try to see –" He suddenly stops, his eyes glowing like a bonfire. "Oh…" He mutters.

He then looks down at Evan's hand and takes it in his own, shaking it. Evan stares at him, confused.

"Amelia says now that I'm five years old, I'm a big boy! Big boys have to shake hands when they meet someone!" James explains, smiling.

I can't help but smile, and I see the corners of Evan's mouth twitch.

… … … …

As we walk through the clearing in the trees, I tense. I sense something. Suddenly a shadow sweeps past me, Derek, and Amelia. Evan tenses, ready to strike, but the shadow is too fast. It comes charging towards James, but no one makes a move to save him. I look over at Amelia and Derek just to see them watching, no concern in their eyes whatsoever. The shadow jumps through the air, catching the moonlight. It looks like a giant black dog…or wolf. James doesn't even move. The dog tackles him to the ground, but instead of biting him…he's licking his face.

"Apollo!" James yelps, giggling.

Apollo barks happily. James wraps his arm around him, lifting giant dog up in the air effortlessly. Apollo whimpers, squirming in James's arms.

"Oh," James mutters, blushing. "Sorry, Apollo."

He sets him back on the ground. Apollo shakes himself, but then suddenly tenses his eyes high and alert. Out of the corner of my eye I see Evan tense too.

"Something's coming," He whispers to himself.

Light begins shining through the gapes in the trees. At first, to me, it looks like headlights, but as it comes closer I hear something _whinnying. _Calvin comes crashing through the trees, engulfed in light his mane different shades of purple, blue, red, and orange. His tail leaves a trail of small embers behind him. He effortlessly navigates around Derek, Apollo, James, and Amelia. He stops right in front of me, stomping at the ground in a manner that I don't think is happy. Evan just looks at me.

"Do you know this guy?" He asks, sizing up Calvin.

Calvin snorts, irritated.

I nod. "Unfortunately, yes."

Calvin nudges me with his neck, rubbing his neck against my arm pushing me back. I stumble, feeling a breeze wrap around me.

_What do you mean "unfortunately"?! _

I chuckle. "You know what I mean by unfortunately," I say, pushing Calvin back playfully.

_What the hell were you thinking, Lacey? I was looking around for you all day! I thought someone had kidnapped you…or…or worse. _

I put my hand to my heart in mock happiness. "So you really missed me?" I ask, pretending to sound surprised.

I think I see Calvin actually _narrow _his big horse eyes at me. He just snorts, pushing me with his side, more forcefully this time.

_I hate you. _

"Love you too, Cally."


End file.
